


Lovers

by spoky



Category: RuPaul's Drag Race RPF
Genre: Chronic Illness, HIV/AIDS, Hurt/Comfort, M/M, Romance, STD
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-03-18
Updated: 2017-03-18
Packaged: 2018-10-07 04:22:53
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,953
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/10352172
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/spoky/pseuds/spoky
Summary: DISCLAIMER: This story is RPF, meaning that I use the star image of real people to tell a completely fictional story. It's not meant to offend or insult anyone. Please do not share my fiction with the people I write about on social media or otherwise. Thank you. (For full disclaimer, please see my profile.)Brian figured it was him that had brought them to this situation; to this cafe and this table. Together, separately - did it matter? Rationally it shouldn’t have, but Brian had no way of knowing how Jason might feel about it.





	

****  
  
“Black filter coffee.”  
  
Brian walked to the corner table with his order and settled down in the uncomfortably low arm chair. The brown decor of the coffee house clearly aspired towards the atmosphere of a cozy living room but couldn’t quite live up to the potential. Two young mothers were quietly whispering near the counter, cradling their babies. There was an elderly gentleman reading a newspaper and a young goth chick lazily typing on her laptop, hard rock music pouring into the cafe through her light pink headphones. Brian took a sip of his coffee and burned his tongue.  
  
“Fuck,” he swore, barely above a whisper, but one of the mothers threw an ugly glance at him regardless. In accordance with social norms he offered an apologetic smile in return. What an annoyance.

What imbecile had banned smoking indoors? Fuck temperance movements, hipster cafes, body positivity and vegans. This was the United States of America, the promised land of the rich and famous, not fucking Sweden -- a Scandinavian high-tax utopia with gender-neutral kindergartens. This shit right here came with a freedom of hate speech and a misogynistic racist for president. Smoking inside should’ve been embraced with the same blissful ignorance. Or maybe it was just his mood talking?

There was a bright high-pitched _ting_ as the coffee shop door swung open. Brian glanced up and watched as his… He closed his eyes briefly and shook his head. Jason. _Jason_ stepped inside the cafe. What exactly was he supposed to call him? A friend? With benefits? Companion in misfortune? Jason’s eyes seemed slightly swollen, reddish.

Brian swallowed. So it was bad news then?    
  
Jason took a seat opposite Brian and immediately reached for the coffee.  
  
“You could get your own,” Brian thought out loud.  
  
“Why? We share everything else,” Jason said, shrugging indifferently.

Brian blinked at the revelation as Jason refused to meet his eyes. It had taken Brian days to admit to himself that he’d fucked up. That they’d fucked up. Now Jason had just blurted the information out in his infuriatingly straightforward style. How aggravating. Brian rolled his eyes and turned to look outside.

A young woman was crossing the road just outside the cafe and flashed a smiled to the taxi driver that had stopped to wait for her. She took two rushed leaps to reach the sidewalk and quickly disappeared into the crowd. The taxi was followed by a blue bus carrying a makeup advertisement. Brian wondered how Jennifer Lawrence would have handled a situation like theirs. Her skin and lips were photoshopped flawless, so the actress supported a healthy, vibrating glow. Who knew whether that was a truthful representation? Brian glanced back to Jason, who was examining his phone. He looked healthy. Maybe not as flawless as Lawrence in her retouched glory, but handsome regardless.

Brian could feel something tightening in his chest. He felt somehow relieved and crushed simultaneously. Wasn’t it against some law of physics to feel hopeful and sorry for the same reason? He lowered his gaze back to the coffee table and sighed.

He was so fucking sorry. 

Brian figured it was him that had brought them to this situation; to this cafe and this table. Together, separately - did it matter? Rationally it shouldn’t have, but Brian had no way of knowing how Jason might feel about it. Reason and emotion were very different things. In theory the fault could’ve been Jason’s. Were the tables turned, would that change the situation or his perspective? It probably would have changed Brian’s initial feelings, but not the reality or the logic that went with his reasoning. There were no alternative facts to consider; the truth was what it was. He wanted to reach for the other man, to touch him, to offer support and reassurance, but he didn’t dare.

Jason took sip of Brian’s coffee.

They sat in an awkward silence for a while and Brian kept wondering what to say. Apologising felt insufficient. He traced the patterns of the wooden table with his ring finger and kept fiddling with his lighter. He really wanted a cigarette. Something to do with his hands; a familiar and easy action to concentrate on.

A loud, demanding cry filled the cafe. One of the young mothers rushed to hush the baby and Brian was momentarily reminded of the benefits of being gay. The subtle feeling of gratefulness however passed quickly. There were two sides to the coin. Based on the smell, someone had ordered pancakes. 

“I’m sorry,” Jason mumbled suddenly, and Brian lifted his gaze.

Jason was staring into the black depths of the coffee and kept tracing the rim of the cup with his middle finger. Very hygienic. The absurdity of the thought made Brian chuckle. Hygiene? He was worried about hygiene? Jesus fucking christ. 

“You think it’s funny?” Jason asked. His tone was slightly hostile and Brian sighed.  
  
“No,” he shook his head slightly. “I don’t think it’s funny. I think it’s absurd and unfair. It’s unbelievable and incomprehensible. It’s Notting Hill gone World War Z.”

Jason frowned. “It’s what?”

Brian snorted. Of course Jason wouldn’t get the reference. Jason was a baby. A child with adult responsibilities and paychecks. Unfortunately, that meant you had to pay all the taxes in full.

“A public health nightmare, that’s what,” Brian said and stole his molested coffee cup back to himself. He took a sip and examined Jason, who looked confused and lost. The cute, adoring smile Violet usually graced Brian with was gone. There was no trace of the usual cheeky spark that normally decorated his eyes and Brian wondered whether the man was scared. _He_ certainly was.

“Had I wanted an American horror story, I would’ve hooked up with Needles instead,” Brian snorted. Jason raised his eyebrows at him, unamused.

When Brian had first gotten the news, he had felt like spiders were crawling all over his body, like bacteria was playing catch on his skin. The sensory nightmare was not too far-fetched. In reality it was a virus and instead of on top, it was underneath the skin. It was within.

“I’m sorry,” Brian said finally. The words might’ve felt meaningless, powerless, but he had no idea what else to say. Nothing felt appropriate.

He looked up to Jason, who was looking at him with an expression Brian couldn’t quite make sense of.  
  
“I pushed you into it,” Jason said quietly and turned his gaze away from Brian.  
  
“What do you mean?” Brian asked, confused.

Jason was blaming himself? That made no sense. All the decisions had been made in a split second, in the heat of a moment -- quite literally -- and while Brian would have changed things were he given the option to do so, that was impossible. There was no space for _if_ -ing. Moreover, there was no use for the blame-game. It would only make the situation worse by setting them up against one another. Brian squirmed in his seat; he was going to reach for Jason’s hand over the table, but he missed his chance as Jason stood up abruptly and, without a word, made a straight line into the gents.

Brian watched after him, concerned, and the bathroom door closed with a quiet click. Was he supposed to follow or to give the man space? Jason probably wanted privacy and so Brian decided to give him a moment. A moment to collect his thoughts without Brian’s intrusive presence, without the detrimental reminder of their similar circumstances. He took another sip of the coffee and wondered what all of this would mean. For him, personally. For them, as a… as what exactly?

 

*** ***

 

**Hedonism**

It had been weeks and the initially harmless flirting had left Brian hard and aching. The elevator to the fifth floor was taking decades and Brian kept playing with the cap of the small lube tube in his pocket. Click. Click. Click. _Bing._  
  
At least he remembered the room number and didn’t have to check it.

501... 502... 503... 504... There.

When Jason finally let him in, Brian wasted no time. He pushed Jason against the wall, yanking away the towel hanging low on his hips and kicking the front door shut. 

“Ru still hasn’t wired you the money?’ Brian asked. “Given the attire.”  
  
Jason did not respect the question with a reply, but responded to Brian’s demanding, powerful kisses with matching enthusiasm and desperation.

“Off,” Jason groaned and helped Brian to open his belt. 

“No really, I think you have grounds to claim interest for late payment.”  
  
“Oh, shut up and fuck me,” Jason snapped and yanked Brian’s fly open.

Brian just smirked in response. He knew what he was doing; driving Jason mad with his commentary. But Jason was so adorable frustrated that Brian just couldn’t help himself. What he hadn’t been expecting, was to be pulled down with Jason as the man got onto his knees at the first sight of Brian’s erect cock. 

“Whoa!” Brian exclaimed in surprise, trying to catch his balance. “The end of the world is not approaching,” he added, grinning. “We’ve got time.” 

Brian halted and reached for the lube in his pocket. 

“Now,” Jason commanded, and Brian chuckled. Impatient, whiny bitch.  
  
“Where’s th-”  
  
_“Now,”_ Jason repeated, turned and pushed himself against Brian so that Brian’s cock was trapped between his crotch and Jason’s ass.  
  
Fine, Brian thought to himself and shoved Jason onto his hands and knees. Still wearing every single piece of clothing he had arrived with, shoes included, just his dick exposed, Brian smeared some lube onto himself and Jason, checking the man had done at least some preparation. He was not disappointed. The younger man seemed to vibrate with need and as Brian slid in, he gave a low moan. Brian pulled almost all the way back, only to plunge back in with a force that made Jason cry out.  
  
“Again.”  
  
_Insatiable slut,_ Brian thought, and laughed silently as he started to fuck Jason, who seemed desperate to take every inch of him with every single thrust.  
  
“Brian,” Jason moaned and continued with a stream of emphatic profanities as Brian kept fucking him faster, harder. As Brian felt his climax approaching he fumbled to reach for Jason’s cock. He ran his thumb over the tip to spread the precum all over; Jason hissed in a mixture of pleasure and pain as he pulled back to protect his over-sensitive cock, causing Brian to slide deeper into him.  
  
“Fuck yes.”

  
Brian groaned and drove into Jason with abandon, holding his hips in place tightly with both hands. It was only after Brian had spilled into Jason and was breathing heavily into his neck that Jason  finally reached for his own release. Brian made a mental note of his altruism and willingness to please - something he had not previously associated with Violet Chachki.  


 

 

 **Immodesty**  


“Here.”  
  
Violet pushed the dressing room door open and dragged Katya inside.  
  
“At your service, Your Royal Highness,” Katya said before crashing their lips together as she pulled Violet close. She wanted release and had approximately seven minutes to achieve it. She kissed Violet roughly, knowing she was smudging not only her own but also Violet’s makeup. There would be red lipstick everywhere and she really did _not_ care. Violet took a step back, and Katya leaned forward in order to follow those sinful lips. The movement caused her to stagger, and as she moved to catch up with her balance, she accidentally clacked their teeth together.  
  
Violet hissed in pain and broke the kiss. Katya blinked, startled at the loss of contact.  
  
“What?” she asked, confused.

Violet was leaning her head back, eyes squeezed tightly close. She was pressing her palm against her lower lip, clearly in pain.

“Shit, I’m sorry,” Katya apologised quietly as she gently moved Violet’s hand and revealed the abused, slightly torn lower lip. A darker shade of red than either of their lipsticks was slowly spreading over Violet’s lip and chin.

“Fuck,” Katya swore at the sight and shockingly realised she was more aroused than a second ago. Somehow the vulnerability of the younger queen lit a flame inside of her. She wanted her. She wanted her _now ._

“You’re so fucking hot,” Katya whispered, her voice deep with arousal, and licked the blood from Violet’s chin. She gently traced it to the torn lip, and as Violet flinched back, Katya smirked. She held Violet’s head in place and gently, slowly, and with extreme care she caressed Violet’s lips with her tongue. 

“So incredibly sexy,” she murmured, and pressed gentle kisses on Violet’s lips as she got rid of Violet’s skirt and untucked her in order to proceed with the originally intended handjob.  
  
God, she loved how she could make her vibrate under her touch.

 

 

  
**Versatility**  


Brian heard the door click close and smiled slightly to himself. He had already jerked off and showered, thinking Violet wouldn’t make it after all. Thanks to the dim lighting he could see a reflection of her in the window as she kicked off her heels and made her way towards the bed in what Brian could only describe as one-third-drag.

“Bri?” she whispered and sat on the bed. She reached for Brian’s naked form and stroked his lower back gently. She apparently hadn’t realised he was awake and Brian enjoyed fully how differently she acted under the impression that no one was looking. Violet Chachki faded to the background and Jason without bulwarks emerged. A smart, young man who was tired of being judged.

She leaned close and pressed a kiss in between Brian’s shoulder blades, slowly tracing his spine down to his lower back with her lips and tongue. The attention made Brian feel cared for. 

“Come on babe,” she mumbled, and stroked his upper thigh. “I know I’m late, but wake up,” she continued gently. “I missed you.”

Brian smiled at the words and hummed as a sign that he was listening. Violet halted for a moment, but eventually continued caressing Brian’s upper back. She straddled him to sit on his thighs while running her fingers down his sides, before pressing her now naked chest against his back and kissing his neck. Brian could feel her hardness pressing against him through the thin fabric of her skirt.

"Mother, I see you've come bearing gifts again," Brian drawled.

“Oh, shut up!” Violet laughed and bit his shoulder, leaving visible red marks.

From the corner of his eye Brian caught her reaching for the condoms he had placed on the night stand earlier. As he turned to look at her, he saw her biting the plastic wrapping. He raised an inquisitive eyebrow at her. She stopped for a second, then smiled and leaned to press a gentle kiss on his lips before guiding him back against the mattress.

Gentle. Slow. Loving?

It was afterwards, when Violet was trying to steady her breathing and pulled out, that she noticed the cum on Brian. Had she bitten into the actual condom while opening the wrapping? She blushed and notified Brian, who was silent for a moment, but chuckled eventually.

“We can name the baby Ernest,” Brian smirked and pulled Violet into an earth-shattering kiss.

“Rotten thing to do to a girl.”

 

 

 *** ***  


 

“We’re closing in 15 minutes,” the barista notified Brian, not unkindly.  
  
Brian nodded and pushed his empty coffee cup closer to her. She picked the dish up with a silent smile and a nod, before making her way to the old gentleman, who Brian swore had passed away fifteen minutes ago, based on how still he was. As the barista however did not have to call the body snatchers, Brian sighed and glanced at the bathroom door. He knew that he should’ve gone in ages ago. He got up reluctantly while pressing the heels of his hands into his eyes for a quick rub. He was painfully aware that he was stalling.  
  
Being responsible for someone else felt alien. Caring this much felt frightening.

The door felt heavy as Brian pushed his way into the bathroom. He stopped next to the two sinks and listened to the quiet, uneven hum of a malfunctioning fluorescent lamp while eyeing the three cubicles, one of which had a closed door.

“Jason?” Brian asked quietly, stepping closer to the cubicle. “They’re closing in ten.”

There was a short silence before a soft sob. Brian touched the closed door and to his surprise found it unlocked. He carefully pushed the door into the cubicle and found Jason sitting on the toilet seat, red cheeks wet with tears. He was holding a wad of paper in his hand, gaze glued firmly to the floor.

Brian swallowed and crouched in front of him, placing his hands on Jason’s knees. He recognised the feeling of protectiveness within himself but wasn’t entirely sure why, or even when, he had started feeling like this in regards to Jason. Probably somewhere in between shaking his hand on the set of Drag Race, and sticking his cock into his bum.

Brian looked up to face Jason, who reluctantly met his eyes. There were no words that could offer real reassurance or comfort, so Brian didn’t even try. Instead he aimed for a gentle smile and slowly, holding Jason’s gaze, he leaned his weight onto Jason’s knees and reached up to press a soft peck on his lips.

“I adore you,” Brian whispered just short of Jason’s lips, offering him the only lifeline he could. The only one he had. Whether or not Jason would accept it was up to him. Brian saw a new set of tears escaping onto Jason’s cheeks just before the man wrapped his long arms around Brian’s shoulders, pulling him into a desperate kiss.

 

**Author's Note:**

> Liked it?


End file.
